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poet707747


 The Eye

Hurricanes always grasp me with memories;
In the mountains of Virginia, we get the rain.
I never experienced the fury of these storms,
Until I met face to face in the South China Sea.

On an ammunition ship, the USS Flint, riding high;
Our holds now empty of the bounty of munitions.
The Gun Line of Vietnam had demanded all we had;
Time to restock and reload in Subic Bay, Philippines.

A huge storm laid in our path, so we battened down;
I could see the darkness ahead, the waves lashing.
Entering the raging winds and crashing surf ready;
Rotating often on the helm, whipping the ships wheel.

Keeping the bow of our ship directed into the waves;
Surf crashing across the forecastle, fantail lifted.
We could hear the screw turning out of the water;
Fighting to keep a mere semblance of our course.

Thrown into the bulkheads, some lashed down in their bunks;
Food impossible to keep down, just fluids for me.
After hours of this tossing, there is a brightness ahead;
We enter the eye of this typhoon, a sudden calm.

While most took the opportunity to eat in the peace;
I went out on deck and experienced true uniqueness.
The ocean was now like a mirror; still, quiet, gentle;
Seeing the storm surrounding us, feeling the moment.

Like a door into eternity, my soul yearned for this;
Now seeing the back side of the typhoon coming.
Back on the bridge, back at the helm we reentered;
The storm rages 6 more hours into the dark evening.

I was left with that moment suspended within time;
Forever passing across that threshold of true reality.
I can still feel the sensations I felt that special hour;
Removed from history, always in my present… the eye.

27Aug11

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Memories triggered by Irene...


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